


"I ain't leavin, Beth"

by LilyFire



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 18:20:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5015230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyFire/pseuds/LilyFire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beth arrives with the others, safe and sound at Alexandria. Daryl smells bacon cooking, and she invites him in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"I ain't leavin, Beth"

Daryl smelled something he hadn’t smelled in a long time

 

Bacon.

Like a hound dog on a fresh trail he followed the aroma to the house next door. He could hear her lightly singing, a sweet melody that overpowered the crackle and pop of   
sizzling bacon.

 

Daryl hesitated, unsure whether or not to enter. The smell was damn tantalizing, but he and Beth had been…distant since the hospital. 

 

The singing stopped, and he tried to launch himself off the porch but wasn’t quite quick enough. 

 

The screen door opened “Daryl?”

 

He froze in his tracks, slowly turning to face her.

 

A beaming smile was on her face and those cornflower blue eyes were wide in delight. The very sight of her warmed his heart.

 

“Uhh, smelled bacon or somethin’” he said lamely

 

She pushed the door open wider “Would you like to come in? We have more than enough.”

 

Apparently, he hesitated to long, because she stepped towards him, placing her small hand in his large one, tugging him along.

 

Daryl Dixon was not one to let himself be led around like a damn dog, but he followed the small blonde without complaint.

 

Timidly (since when was Daryl Dixon ever timid?) he intertwined his fingers with hers, admiring the way her soft hands felt in his. His palms were rough and dirty, lined with scratches and calluses, hers could have been the hands of a princess. She had lost all the roughness while she was in the hospital, leaving only smooth skin behind. Daryl didn’t mind, no one would get to Beth without his say-so.

 

The moment was gone all too soon, and she released his grasp to tend to the bacon.

 

Daryl looked around awkwardly at the kitchen, he still wasn’t used to ‘civilization.’

 

“Go ahead, sit down, I promise the chairs won’t bite.” Beth teased, 

 

Daryl narrowed his eyes, searching for a retort but was too distracted by the way the sunlight danced on her hair. 

 

Beth went back to humming, and he watched with rapt attention as she bustled around the tiny kitchen. Memories of the time at the funeral home resurfaced, and he recalled how she always skinned whatever animal he had caught with ease. She had always managed to make even roadkill taste delicious. 

 

“Here.” She set a heaping plate of bacon and eggs and toast in front of him.

 

“What’s this?” 

 

“Breakfast.”

 

“This ain’t no breakfast. Breakfast is dead possum.”

 

“Daryl,” she pleaded, and the expression on her face was enough to shut him up.

 

He shoveled a forkful in his mouth. Damn the girl could cook, though he still missed possum. This city was too soft, right down to the food.

 

Beth sighed and he wondered what he possibly did now to irritate her.

 

She held a lace napkin in her hand, moving closer to him when he set his fork down.

 

“What the hell you doin’?” 

 

“Hold still.” She wiped the smeared food away

 

“I ain’t a baby.”

 

“Then at least look a little decent, use a napkin.”

 

“Why? I ain’t got anyone to impress.”

 

She set the crumpled napkin on the table, pulling up a seat across from him. The second she folded her hands and looked him dead in the eye he knew he was in for it.

 

“Daryl.” 

 

He was contemplating whether it was worth it or not to run.

 

“You need to try to be, a little more, well, involved.”

 

“What the hell does that mean?”

 

Beth sighed, and he felt his heart drop a little at disappointing her.

 

“Please just try to adapt, maybe take a shower.”

 

Anger was bubbling up within him, who was she to demand he fit in? He’d spent weeks searching for her, wading through a sea of walkers to get to her. And yet he still wasn’t good enough!

 

Daryl stood up, shoving his half-eaten food away roughly.

 

He shouldered his crossbow and was about to angrily stomp away when Beth jumped up. She blocked him from leaving.

 

“Move.”

 

“No.” there was the tiniest bit of quaver in her voice, but she held steady.

 

“I said move, girl.”

 

“No.” she placed a hand on his chest, and he tensed, his heart beating loudly at the situation. She could feel it, thumping like a war drum.

 

“Please, I, I, didn’t mean no harm.” Her voice was soft, pleading, and Daryl felt his walls crack just a bit.

 

Her fingertips were still pressed against his chest, flooding every part of his body with a giddy warmth.

 

She took a deep breath before returning her large, cornflower blue gaze back on him.

 

“I don’t want to lose you again. And I’m afraid if you don’t quite mix here, they might force you out.”

 

Unshed tears glistened in her eyes, and Daryl focused on a distant vase of flowers, unable to handle the raw emotion.

 

“You ain’t gonna lose me.”

 

And just like the time in the cell block at the prison, and the time at the little cabin in the woods, Beth wrapped her arms around him.

 

This time though, Daryl didn’t hold back on returning the embrace. His strong arms encircled her, enveloping her, he even began to tentatively stroke her hair. 

 

One strangled sob, escaped from the blonde, and it nearly broke his heart.

 

“I ain’t leavin’ Beth, no one can make me.”

 

He touched his forehead to hers, trying to block his own unshed tears.

 

“I ain’t leavin’ Beth” he repeated, until her sobs quieted.

 

And even after, he still held her, Beth, the girl he’d searched so hard to find.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
